Battleon: The Newcomer Vol I
by Chaosmaster23
Summary: Dave is a normal, everyday kid, or so he thinks. His life is turned upside down when he embarks on a mission given to him by other worldly people.
1. Chapter 1

Dave slowly slid down into his chair. Today was another day like any other. He sat in his high achiever classes, listened to his teachers drone on about meaningless subjects, and didn't pay a bit of attention. He never did. Coming to school was a social activity, not to be taken seriously. At lunch, he would hang out with friends, maybe buy a personal pizza and a PowerAde, but he would never worry about school work. He shrugged it off, never taking it seriously, always saying he'd pass on test grades, which, in fact, would be entirely possible if test grades were weighted more of his grade, but as it was, he could never get higher than a D because of his lack of work ethic. Today was no different.

"And so," droned Mr. Harris, "that concludes our study of the Big Bang theory. Next week, after the weekend break, we will begin studying the formation of the first atoms." Dave shook his head to keep his eyes open. His problem wasn't sleeplessness, it was sleepiness, brought on by the incessant monotones of his teachers.

He bell rang just as Dave was about to pass out on the desk. Lunch hour, thank God, he thought. He stood from his seat and followed the rest of his class out of the room. He made his way across campus to the lunch room. He couldn't wait to get his hands on a hot pizza. The December winds were killing him. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself. The rest of the High school seemed accustomed to the chill, but he couldn't get used to it, after having lived his life in Florida and having moved to Virginia. The chill bit straight through his thin, flimsy cotton jacket. It was more like a sweater with a zipper.

As he was walking back to the cafeteria, an announcement blared out of the loud speakers. "David Hacks, please report to the Principal's office. Repeat, David Hacks, report to the office." Dave turned around on the dime and walked speedily to the office. He passed several onlookers who had heard of him. As soon as they realized he knew they were watching, they backed off. He was known to have a violent temper and would just as soon talk to you as he would break your neck. At least, that's how the other students knew him. He had one true friend, and only one. Her name was Karen, and he talked to her a lot. She knew he didn't like socializing, so she spread some rumors. He liked the lasting effect of these rumors, as very few people would wind up talking to him.

He threw open the door to the office and stepping into the heated room. He was still clutching his jacket tightly to him, and warmth finally seeped in. He looked at the aid by the desk, and said in as pleasant a tone as he could muster, "Why was I called in here?"

Apparently, he wasn't pleasant enough, because the aid immediately turned on her heels with a look on her face like she just swallowed a lemon and walked back into the back offices. After a moment, the principal appeared, holding a note in his hand. He looked rather please with himself. "David, we know what you did to that Henderson boy, and now I've got proof." He and the principal did not get along very well.

"Oh?" said Dave, very apathetic. "What have you got?"

"We've got an eye witness account. Right here," said the principal as he extended the note forward. Dave picked it up and read it. He knew who had written this the moment he laid eyes on it. Of course, Dave hadn't done anything to Tony, the Henderson boy, and this note was not even remotely close to proving that he did. There were a few words scrawled on it in very hasty hand writing. It detailed when and where the "attack" took place and who was there. Apparently, Dave had on very strange clothing and was wielding some sort of sword. Dave almost laughed out loud. He could barely conceal the smug grin. What was in this tell tale note wasn't even feasible. Why would he carry a sword around with him? And what sort of outlandish clothes was he supposed to be wearing? At this point, he uttered a sort of muffled chuckle and grunted at the same time.

"Mr. P, this is as invalid as your drivers license." And with that, Dave took the note and torn it in two. And then in four. And then in eight. Then he threw it in the garbage. The principal looked shocked.

"You… you… you're on home suspension!" the principal sputtered. "Get your things and get home! You're not coming back to this school until New Year's!"

"Whatever. That's just more time off. See ya later, loser face," Dave said nonchalantly. And with that, he got up and lounged off to his locker. The principal had a mortified look on his face when Dave turned for a final "eat it and like it" look. More onlookers shuffled away. Dave realized that his mother wouldn't be too happy with his behavior, but there wasn't much he could have done about that.

When he reached his locker, he saw Karen waiting there. "Hey Dave, how's it hangin'?"

Dave shook his head and grinned. "I guess I'll only see you at the creek. I'm suspended until New Year's," Dave said almost wearily.

Karen gasped. "That's two almost an entire month away! He can't do that, can he?" Karen had a look of concern on her beautiful face. She had bright blue eyes, like a cloudless sky, blonde hair, like golden rays of light flowing down her back. Her smile would cure sickness, her laugh heal deafness, her kiss cure even the most broken heart. She was the most beautiful seventeen-year-old ever to grace the land of Virginia. Dave knew what a gold mine he had having her as a friend. His problems dissolved before his eyes as she looked at him.

"It doesn't matter what he says, I'll do what I feel like," Dave replied soothingly. Karen smiled.

"That's what I like about you. You don't take no shit from no one," Karen said smiling.

"Look," Dave started, "I gotta get going. If the principal catches me here, I'm an expelled man." Dave threw open his locker, grabbed his back pack and headed out. The backpack wasn't exactly light, either. He had homework in all of his periods except phys. ed. He had Chemistry, Calculus, AP English, AP History, and his elective, Advanced Art. He was carrying home four books and an art kit.

Dave trudged down the hallway. When he emerged into the open air, he looked at his watch. December 4th, 2007, 1:21 pm, it read. He set off on his way home, expecting to get there in twenty minutes.

Dave never really made it home that day. Something happened that he didn't understand. He was walking down the street, mostly minding his own business, when he saw a kid being beat up by a bunch of guys his age. He recognized one of them as Tony Henderson. I'll settle this shit, he thought. He started to cross the street, but he recoiled in pain. He had run into something, something hard. He blinked and saw nothing in his way. He moved forward again, but was again repelled by an unseen force. This time, he forced his way forward. He fell headlong forward, but instead of hitting the invisible wall, or even the ground for that matter, he kept on falling. He was falling, falling…

Dave say up and opened his eyes. He was sitting in a grassy clearing in a large forest. Movement caught his eye. He turned to see what it was. A little bear-like creature are staring at him. It had really big ears, though, almost like a mouse's, except pointier, and it was roughly the size of a small dog. It stood upright, however, and even had a walking stick. When it spoke, its voice was small and squeaky. "Um… Hiyas! Welcome to Rugglum, my home! What brings you here?"

Dave could scarcely believe what he heard. This little creature was talking to him. He leaned back a little, and said in a shaky voice, "Um, I think I'm lost. Could you help me out a little? I need to get back home."

"Well in that case, my name is Twilly and I'm a moglin. We're a peaceful race who love to take care of our forest homes. Lots of us learn healing magic too, like me!" At this point, a small flash of light and a light breeze announced the entrance of two very strange looking people, a man and a woman. The man was wearing purple robes and golden arm bands. His sleeves were laced in gold, and he was holding a strange looking crystal ball. Dave noticed a very long walking stick behind the man. The woman was dressed almost like a female version of Robin Hood.

The strange little creature who called itself a moglin spoke up again. "These are my friends Robina Hood the Ranger, and Warlic, an Archmage! Nice teleport spell, Warlic!"

Warlic, the man, spoke with a very soft and gentle voice. "Thank you, Twilly. Glad you liked it!" He spoke as if he was pacifying a three year old. Twilly turned back to Dave.

"Because you are just starting an adventure away from you home, there will be many things in the world of Lore that could surprise you. What do you want to know first?"

"Um, how did I get here?" asked Dave. Twilly looked surprised. Warlic took to explaining this one.

"You see, when your mother and father got married, they--"

"Okay, I know what _that_ is, but how did I get to this land? I was just on a street in Virginia!" Dave said nonplussed.

"Where?" asked Robina. Her voice sounded just like Karen's. Dave looked closer at Robina. In fact, she looked a lot like Karen, except with red hair instead of blonde.

"Oh my god, this isn't happening," Dave said to himself in a muted whisper.

"Were you sent out of your home too soon?" asked Twilly.

"I guess so!" said Dave loudly. "I don't know how the hell I got here. I don't even know where _here_ is!"

"Calm down. Maybe you were robbed and hit on the head, destroying your memory. This land is called Lore. The nearest town is Battleon. You are an adventurer just starting out. It seems that a bandit attacked you. You have no gold with you." Warlic seemed to be very knowledgeable. Dave wondered if he understood any of the things in his school books. Maybe he was educated for this era. Dave stopped himself from delving into things without knowing what he was delving into.

Warlic stood and brought both hands together. When they came apart, some gold coins piled out of his sleeves. "This is our currency, in case you've forgotten. You can keep all of your gold on you by this simple spell, making all of it fit into one package." Warlic picked a small animal skin pouch from his belt and ran his hand over it. He began scooping the coins into it. When he was done, he knelt and handed them to Dave. "What name do you go by?" he asked.

"D-d-Dave," Dave stuttered.

"Odd name, to be sure," said Robina. "Well, you don't seem to be armed. Here, take this long sword." She drew a sword from her scabbard and held it handle out to him. He took it in both hands and studied it. It was an average blade, sharp enough to fight with, a little battle battered, but still had some use left in it. Dave stood up and looked at his three new acquaintances.

"Why am I going to need this?" he asked.

Warlic almost laughed out loud. "So that you are not attacked again and are left defenseless."

"Wait, why would I get attacked?" he questioned, rather nervously.

"That bump on the head must have hit a crucial location. This is Lore. We are a war-like continent. Anyone you meet is a potential enemy." Warlic smiled.

"Oh, look, Dave has finally got a chance to get back on his feet. Here comes a monster," said Robina casually. Dave froze. A monster? This was too much. His knees got weak. And then he saw it. It was a little, strange fly-like creature. It was about the size of a cat, and it flew, actually hovered, about. It was closing in on their location, and Dave was the most relaxed there. He dropped his pack and held the sword ready. He didn't know if this "monster" was venomous, so he couldn't allow it to hit him. He stood in a defensive position and waited for it to attack. He realized that the others had backed off. There was plenty of room to maneuver, so he could swing the sword safely. Well, safely for his allies.

The thing struck first. Dave repelled the attack as best he could and swung forward. He caught it directly in its back, knocking it to the ground. He stepped back and waited to see if it was still alive. It was, in fact. It lifted from the ground and speedily attacked. It hit his arm, stinging like a big mosquito. Dave felt it, but he didn't seem to feel it at the same time. He swung the mosquito thing and struck it, this time right down the middle. The sword did its work. It was sliced cleanly in two. Dave shuddered. What the hell was he doing fighting weird freak sized bugs in a magic land?

"That was very good! You have a lot of potential! I think Galanoth would love to talk to you," said Warlic.

"He killed a bug. I don't think that would qualify as a Dragon Slayer in the making," commented Robina.

"Pessimist," muttered Warlic. "Come on, let's get you to town."

The whole group moved through the forest, trekking to the town Battleon. Robina was leading, and Warlic bringing up the rear. When they finally did get to the town, Dave realized there were only about four buildings and a huge tower spiraling into the clouds. The first building he spotted had a sign hanging over the door. It read "Yulgar's Inn". The next was across the way and had "Aria's Pets" painted across the front door. The one next door to that was Warlic's own shop. The small party entered the inn. A sturdy man was behind the counter. He had long brown hair and a friendly smile, covered by a bushy beard. "What can I do you for?" he asked.

"This young man needs to restock his inventory. He's a beginning adventurer," Warlic explained.

Yulgar nodded and motioned for Dave to look behind the counter. What Dave saw was a huge collection of sword and daggers, knives and blades. He noticed that almost all of them had a tinge of color to them. There were only seven different tinges, red, blue, black, white, yellow, pale blue, and gray. The red blades seemed to be aglow with flame, while the blue seemed to be stirring like waves in the sea. The black ones were like blades of shadows, evil resonated from them. The whitish blades and swords radiated light and good. The yellow seemed to be alive with static. The pale blue swords were colored so because they were frosted. The gray blades wavered and shifted before Dave's eyes. There were other, more regular blades, like those one could view in a museum.

"Um, I think I like that red one, there." Dave pointed to the one that caught his eye. Yulgar motioned for him to lift it. Dave's hand closed around the hilt, which was warm, like someone had been gripping it for hours. He tried to lift it from the holding clasps, but it wouldn't budge. He tried again, but again, it stayed. Yulgar chuckled and shook his head.

"You see, the more enemies you defeat, the stronger your spirit becomes. You will be able to lift that blade once your spirit can handle it," said Yulgar wisely. Dave nodded. He was beginning to get used to this world. He would need to learn swordsmanship from a skilled swordsman, but he doubted he'd have trouble finding a swordsman.

"Warlic, who was it that you were talking about earlier, when I had just killed that bug?" asked Dave.

"Oh, Galanoth. Yes, you should come with me, right now. I'm going to get you in a guild. Oh, you'll like Galanoth. He's a good man, and not many would stand against him in battle. As strong as I am, I wouldn't like to. It would be quite a match up, though," Warlic said. They left the inn and began traveling again.

After about a day of marching south, they reached the place called Dragonstone. Here Galanoth, the Head of the Order of Dragon Slayers, resided. Upon arriving, Galanoth approached them. "Greeting," he said in a deep, booming voice. He was a giant of a man, standing at least seven feet tall. He was wearing a helmet that looked like the skull of what appeared to be a dragon. His cape, a deep crimson color, was shredded at the ends, and his armor seemed to have sustained many blows. In his hands was the biggest, more powerful sword Dave had ever laid eyes on. It was ornately crafted, with a blood red hilt and a small dragon crest embedded in the tang. It was a yard at least in length. It had a large oval hole in the center of the blade, ranging from a little after the hilt to close to the middle. Near the base on each side was two spiking prongs, turned up to point the same way as the rest. Red jewels were encrusted at the base of the hole. The edges were engrained with a reddish looking metal. On the hilt, two curved spikes extended towards the handle, giving enough room to wield the huge blade. Dave gawked at the blade. Galanoth began speaking again. "Art thou brave enough to quest for the legendary Order of Dragon Slayers?"

"Galanoth, this is Dave. I see promise in him. He is very young and extremely inexperienced. He may prove to have worth. I think that, for now, training under your guidance is the best thing for him. He'll need a proper blade and an armor suit. Can you provide these things for him, provided he will pay you back after he has won enough battles?" asked Warlic.

"I see potential, but I also see a lack of work ethic. He will not succeed if he does not put himself forward. Can you do this, boy?" Galanoth asked Dave. Dave nodded. "Come, have you no voice?" asked Galanoth.

"Yes sir," said Dave. He was still in shock that dragons existed. He wasn't exactly ready to try to slay one yet, but if his new friend Warlic thought it could work, he would try. After all, that was the best he could do under the current conditions. He would need to protect himself.

Warlic turned to leave, but hesitated as he did. "Dave, maybe you should take these," he said. He extended his hand, in which he held two small vials, one with a red liquid in it, the other with a blue liquid. "The red is a health potion. It will increase your endurance for a short time without any bad side effects. The blue restores your mana. Your mana is used when you cast spells. Good luck on your quest." And with that, Warlic turned about and teleported away.

"Why did we have to walk through the woods for a day if he could have teleported us here?" Dave wondered aloud.

"I must teach you about our order if you are to join the ranks. Know this, if you do become a Dragon Slayer, you are on call all day, every day, no matter what your rank. If dragons are attacking innocents, we will be there to help the victims and kill the evil dragons," Galanoth stated with a hint of foreboding in his voice. Dave nodded.

"I want to become a Dragon Slayer if Warlic thinks that it'll be best for me," Dave responded.

"Well, you'll need armor. Follow me," Galanoth said as he began to stroll to a nearby house. Or at least, that was as close to a description as Dave could come to. It was more like a hut, but in much better condition. Dave followed Galanoth inside. A suit of armor was already laid out, and it looked to fit Dave perfectly. "The secret of our power is in our ancient armor. When on first dons this, it is merely metal, however, our armor gains great might as we feed on the spirit of fierce dragons. Every dragon we defeat makes us more powerful. Here, try this suit on for size." Galanoth motioned to the armor already laid out. Dave lifted the breastplate to himself. It was almost a perfect fit. He took off his thin jacket. Now only in his t-shirt, he lifted the breastplate closer. It _was_ a perfect fit.

"Look, seeing as I am new to this, I need help buckling on the armor," Dave said. Galanoth nodded and began assisting him in dressing down. Within a few minutes, Dave was suited up. He flexed his muscles, finding the maneuverability, the flexibility in the armor. He twisted his arm up and turned. It was like greased wax in turning. "What am I to learn if I am to become a dragon slayer?"

"Before I can teach you anything, you must prove your self worthy of become one of my order. Grimfang the dragon has been attacking towns around Battleon. He will not surrender without a fight. You are going to fight him. If you are not successful, I will defend you, but you will lose a golden opportunity," Galanoth said, expressionless.

Dave stared at Galanoth with an expression of utter disbelief. "You're sending me against a dragon_ without any instructions_!" he demanded.

Galanoth simply nodded and said, "If you want to honor Warlic, you must take the assault to Grimfang." Dave nodded again with an expression of defiance, but he kept his mouth shut.


	2. Chapter 2

"Grimfang's shelter is down there, in that cave," said the villager. "He's been eating my sheep! Gut 'im good!"

"I'll give him everyone's best," said Dave, a little anxious. He had no idea how powerful this dragon was, and he didn't want to simply barge in without knowing anything.

Dave began to descend to the cavern, slowly and carefully. He was armed with a special blade, not like his first sword. This was a blade resonating of light. When he reached the mouth of the cave, he was greeted with a very rank stink. He shielded his nose and recoiled. His hand had covered his eyes, otherwise he might have seen the small undead ogre attack him. Apparently, Grimfang didn't like intruders while he was sleeping, so he posted a guard dog, or rather, a guard ogre.

Dave leveled the sword at this little monster. He felt a little fear at the prospect of fighting an undead, not knowing if he could make it die completely or not, but he fought it bravely nonetheless.

He slashed forward with his new blade, leaving huge sweeps of white light in the wake of the blade. This gave him an idea. He remember the one time he had been in a rave, someone had been using rave sticks, small glow sticks used to create designs with the light left in the wake of the stick. He coordinated the wavelengths of light to create a figure 8 and pushed it forward onto the ogre. It fell back a pace, then pushed forward. It was knocked backwards by Dave's fading figure 8 flat on its back, but it was up in another second, attempting to get at Dave. Dave swung the sword again, directly where the ogre had one been a split second ago. The ogre was really nimble for an undead. It swung at him and caught him right in the jaw. Dave fell back a step, then turned his loss of balance into an attack. He swung the blade upward in a reverse arc opposite to his falling direction. The result created rings around him like Saturn's, and an ogre without an arm. It grunted, but, being undead, didn't feel a thing. It continued to attack with the other hand, which was sheared off too. It grunted aloud, then lunged to bite Dave. Dave sidestepped and swung downward with the lunge of the ogre. The decapitated body of the ogre thrashed about wildly in its second set of death throes, then lay limply.

Dave shook his head at how easy his second victory had been. He turned to the cave, with a little more courage in his corner, dead set on entering this cave and taking the fight to the dragon, but he wasn't counting on his quarry staring him right in the face. This dragon was nothing like Dave expected. It was about the size of an elephant, but it was jet black with milky white horns jutting straight forward from its skull like a bull. The teeth were perfectly aligned and razor sharp. It snapped at Dave, then inhaled greatly. When it exhaled, it wasn't fire that blasted forth. It was solid shadow. It was like being hit with the force of a black hole. Dave knew he couldn't take much of that very long, so he dove for any cover available. He landed behind a large rock, which was covered in writhing shadows in seconds. Dave stood ready and leveled the sword. The dragon advanced, snapping and spitting. It swiped at Dave with its claws, but Dave used the special effect of the sword as a defense; he swung upward to make a sheet of light to cover his side.

The dragon's claw hit the light screen and immediately bounced back. It roar in pain. Dave took a stab at the great beast's chest as it reared back. The blade found its mark, and stabbed into the dragon right up to the hilt. The dragon twisted in agony and threw Dave away from him, leaving him impaled upon the blade. It burned like fire in the dragon's chest. Roaring ever louder, it crashed forward in a headlong charge at Dave. Dave leaped back just in time to avoid being crushed under the dragon's weight. Apparently, the sword hadn't punctured the dragon's heart, because it was still roaring and thrashing.

Dave was suddenly hit with the reality of it all. He was fighting a dragon. A dragon. Dave almost fell over. It was impossible. A sideways voice in his head said something that sounded like, "Delayed reaction, moron." Dave shuddered. This dragon might kill him. Dave shook his head. A new precedence took place in his mind. He would learn everything he could about this world in order to get back home. And in order to do that, he would need to stay alive.

Dave bound forward and snatched the sword from the dragon's chest. When he pulled it out, he found his epiphany had given him a new measure of courage. The blade shown with radiance, though it was still covered in the dragon's black blood. Dave Swung the blade up, catching the dragon in the belly. He slide the blade along the underside in a slashing motion. He pulled the blade free and stabbed the dragon in the side. He withdrew again and bound away, just as the dragon spun around to counter.

The beast was lagging back now, breathing hard and drooling with glazed look in its eyes. It was blowing blood bubbles from its nose. Dave drove forward hard and stabbed the dragon again. This time, he struck gold. The sword wound its way through the rib cage and punctured the lung. Dave was knocked flat on his back as the dragon reared up. The dragon dipped its head forward and clutched the hilt of the sword in its jaws. With a swift movement, it drew out the blade and flung it at Dave. Dave leaned his shoulder back just in time to avoid being impaled. The voice inside his head this time said, "Nice bullet time move." The dragon, now having a sucking chest wound, a huge gash in its chest and side, and a torn belly, now heaved forward in a last ditch attempt to kill Dave. Dave leaned back a little and drew a fist. As soon as the staggering dragon was close enough, Dave swung a haymaker. It caught the dragon right between the eyes, not only knocking it cross eyed, but killing it on contact.

Dave faintly realized the villager who had come to watch the defeat of the dragon were cheering loudly, and Galanoth was sitting on a rock, well out of range of the fight, applauding Dave. Dave shook his head and fell on his butt. He had killed a dragon. He knew that this world would not be very easy to live in. But what he didn't know was the half of it.


	3. Chapter 3

"So, what you're saying is that I just need to focus?" asked Dave. He and Galanoth had returned to Galanoth's dwelling after much back slapping and hooray's from the villagers. Dave, of course, had saved their village and livelihood, and they wanted to pay him back for it. At the current, Galanoth was teaching Dave an offensive position, named the Dragon Strike. If he was fighting a dragon and he perfected the technique, he would inflict double the damage as usual when he executes the attack.

Galanoth stood for what seemed the millionth time. "Let me demonstrate." He lifted the huge dragon blade towards the dummy that they had set up. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then lunged forward with lightning speed. The sword seemed the go straight through the dummy, and all Dave could see was a flash of light. Galanoth turned and sat down. The moment his bulk hit the ground, the dummy fell to the ground as if by magic, cut to ribbons.

"How-?" Dave started.

"Focus. That is the key. You must learn to focus your energy in order to execute this attack. Now, give it what you've got," Galanoth coached. Dave stood with his newly obtained Flame Blade. He leaned forward slightly, just like Galanoth had shown him in order to get more propulsion. He tilted his head to an angle, maybe a change of ten degrees, and held the sword ready. By this time, training with Galanoth, he had learned basic fencing and Zweihander styles. He closed his eyes for a moment and focused. Recently, he had learned to tap into his mana, his ability to do magic. By using his mana, he could do things he normally couldn't do, like run at the extreme speeds necessary to execute this attack. He pulled a small piece of his mana away to use now. He leaned forward and started to dash. His legs didn't touch the ground. He had flown forward, faster than he had expected. Leaning back a little in mid-flight, he swung around the sword. Time seemed to freeze for a moment. Dave took advantage of this brief pause to inflict as much damage to the dummy as possible. When he pulled away from the dummy, Galanoth stood and nodded.

"You've done very well. You've just executed the Dragon Strike technique. Look." When Dave looked at the dummy, he was dumbstruck.

"I did all that?" he asked. The dummy was torn in eight places and stuffing was falling out everywhere. Galanoth's attack looked subtle compared to this. Dave slowly shook his head. He was getting stronger. Warlic, who happened to teleport directly in the middle of the training grounds at that moment, looked at the dummy and then to Galanoth.

"Are you demonstrating how to do the Dragon Strike?" he asked.

"No, Dave did that himself," said Galanoth. He nodded in Dave's direction. Warlic turned and face Dave as if seeing him for the first time that day.

"Well, it looks like you'll be an Elite Dragon Slayer before long," Warlic mused. Warlic took a seat next to Galanoth. "I was thinking of asking him to come along with me on a mission of vast importance."

Galanoth simply scoffed. "Everything is 'of vast importance' to you," he said. "What sort of mission is it?"

"Well, I've decided to call it my Epic Quest," Warlic replied. "You see, the Drakels are mobilizing against us, searching for something that we either have or protect. We don't know what it is, but we must find out before it's too late. You remember what they did last time, right?" At this, Galanoth chuckled and nodded.

"What did the Drakels do?" asked Dave, ever the eavesdropper. "Actually, before you answer that question, what is a Drakel?"

"Well, a Drakel is a type of humanoid lizard. They almost always stay inside their city, whose walls are so high, even the wind lord has some trouble getting over. They don't really like visitors much. Well, in the past, they were meddling and messing things up. They unleashed Carnax the Scourge. It is an almost unstoppable monster. Riona Shadowgale was the one who defeated it in the end. She used the psychokinetic bond between her son and the monster to destroy it by using the power of her almost extinct race. Carnax was known to utter words in his last moments, something about being free from someone. I can't recall exactly off the top of my head, but as strong as Carnax was, he still had a stronger master. Who that is, no one knows." Warlic spoke with a kind of reverence.

"Well, whatever I can do this time to stop something like that from happening, I will," said Dave with finality.

"Well, Warlic, he's all yours. I finished teaching him the Dragon Strike. He cannot learn the Dragon's Fire without gaining more power in his armor," he said to Warlic. Then he turned to Dave and said, "If you kill a dragon on the way, tell me later his name and I will tell you if you can learn a new technique."

"Your path will be revealed to you in good time. Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going," said Warlic to Dave. Dave felt a light lifting feeling throughout his entire body and saw a flash of light. The next thing he knew, he was standing in an inn, Yulgar's inn, if he wasn't mistaken. "This, Dave, is Sage Uldor."

Uldor wore tattered robes, not entirely falling apart, but almost shredded at the ends. It was an ugly brownish tan color. He wore a blindfold of the same color. His skin was gray, like microwaved chicken. When he spoke, he spoke with a deep, foreboding voice. "My name is Uldor. I may be blind, but I see all. And your fate, is quite interesting."

"You're not here to learn of your fate. Get information. I must take my leave now," Warlic whispered into Dave's ear. And with a small flash, he was gone.

"I'm not here to learn of my fate this time, Sage. Warlic sent me here to begin a journey. He said my path would be revealed along the way," Dave said.

"Warlic is a powerful wizard, but he is not a sage. His ability to foresee is limited by his reliance on magical methods. My abilities are of a different origin," the sage spoke.

"What do you mean?" Dave asked inquisitively.

"I was born blind, but was able from the beginning to see into the future of those near me. As a child, this would have driven me insane. I would have been sent to an asylum, or worse, if it hadn't been for the kindness and patience of an individual I am most thankful for," Uldor went on.

"And who was that?" asked Dave. He felt full of questions, but this was the issue at hand.

"A Drakel named K'talith," said the sage. Dave had an exclamatory look on his face, mingled with a small measure of inquisitiveness. "I am a sage and do not read minds, and yet I know what you are thinking."

"I bet you do! I thought that the Drakel were a selfish, warlike race," Dave stated, slightly nonplussed.

"The Drakel, as all of the races, consist of more than one group. They are the oldest of the intelligent races of Lore—" Uldor was cut off by a string of blue film fired from the back of the room. It hit him squarely in his back, sending his flying into a table.

"Whoa! Sage Uldor!" Dave exclaimed as he rushed to help him, but he hesitated when he saw what had shot the filmy substance. It was some kind of undead _thing_. It had a skull, ribs, and a spine, but beyond that, it was devoid of any structure. The teeth in the skull were huge, like knives. The ribs still had rotting flesh in them. The spine extended down past its lowest rib like a tail. It rest on its spine, keeping its ribs about a foot off the ground. That tail seemed to be at least four feet long.

"An Undead Ribber!" exclaimed Uldor. He leapt behind the table he had overturned when he hit it and hid there.

Dave was in this alone. He looked at the Ribber and thought for a moment. It was undead, and all the stories he had ever heard with undead anything was always evil, so he supposed his light blade would do some measure of damage. He drew it from the left hand scabbard and stood ready to fight. He doubted that his Dragon Strike technique would accomplish anything against this enemy, so he would wing it the old fashion way.

Turning on the Ribber, snatched a chair from behind him as a shield and began to slash at it. The Ribber recoiled venomously and hissed, then struck. Its teeth were not that sharp, but it did land a decent bite. Dave pulled back and clubbed its skull with the chair. The chair shattered into pieces, leaving the Ribber dazed for a moment. Dave took advantage of the lapse in battle and swung a horizontal blow, decapitating the Ribber right then. The skull hit the floor with a thud and rolled to the table Uldor was hiding behind. "Is it gone?" Uldor inquired.

The back door swung open, revealing another Ribber. Dave grabbed a chair again and thrashed the Ribber before it could get a bearing on the setting. It stood to full height, some six feet, and spat the blue filmy stuff. It hit Dave in the chest, but oozed off. Dave was only hit with the impact hit, not very damaging. He swung the sword downwards, catching the Ribber in a rib and breaking it clean off. The Ribber screamed in pain and made more strange hissing noises. The rotting flesh on its ribs quivered. It spat more of the stuff, but missed Dave entirely. The Ribber bit at Dave, and Dave made to guard himself with his blade. It bit down on the blade and wouldn't let go. Dave released the blade, sending the Ribber sprawling. He picked up a chair leg from the broken chair and bludgeoned the Ribber repeatedly. The skull began to constrict under the rain of blows. Eventually, Dave was just pounding powder into the floor, so he stopped. The body began experiencing its death throes and began to thrash slightly.

"Are those monsters gone?" asked Uldor. He had finally stood from his vantage point.

"Yes, I have defeated them. I've never seen anything like them before! By now, I'm sort of used to being randomly attacked by monsters, but I'd like to know one thing: Just how did they surprise us like that when _you_ are a _sage_? You should have predicted they would be here!" Dave said.

"This confirms the suspicion that Warlic and I have had recently. There must indeed be some force out there that neither one of us can detect. Someone or something is able to partially control the Ethereal Realm, so even I cannot sense its actions."

"I'm not even going to pretend that I understand that," Dave said.

"I will meet you again soon. But first, you might want to make a journey to the Easternmost point in Darkovia forest. There you will find someone who knows the answer to the question that is important to us," Uldor said mysteriously.

"Who will I find?" asked Dave.

"I cannot tell you, for it may affect the outcome. But the question you must ask is: What is the source of the red fog?" Dave stood in silence. "Now, GO!"


	4. Chapter 4

Dave sighed. This was going to be one hell of a trip. He shook his head sadly on his way out of Yulgar's and plodded along the road. He looked at the tower in the distance and thought to himself, I wonder what's in there. Turning back, he entered Yulgar's Inn. Yulgar, who had just seen him off to Darkovia, was slightly surprised. "Back already? Quick's the word and sharp's the action?"

"No, I just came to ask about the huge tower standing in the hills a bit away from town," Dave replied.

"Oh, Guardian tower. Well, as you can see, or perhaps you haven't taken a closer look, there is one main tower with two small towers standing in front of it. On the roof of each is a statue of a bygone Dragon hero," Yulgar filled Dave in.

"But," Dave started. "But I thought dragons were evil. And that's why there are Dragon Slayers, right?"

"Ah, dragons are just like people, some good, like yourself, and some bad, like… well… Drakonnan. But that's a history lesson Galanoth should give you. Anyway, the guardians reside in the tower. They're said to be the strongest warriors in the land, their very armor powerful itself, able to defend against all better than any steel plate. Their sword is an amazing weapon too. It changes form. Not entirely, no, but in nature. It could scorch you one moment, then be freezing you the next. And I've heard tell that it can summon the strongest dragon in Lore, the Guardian Dragon. It breathes fires that harm even the fieriest beasts," Yulgar continued dramatically. Dave paid all his attention on this tale, some thought tickling the back of his head.

"But has anyone ever seen this happen?" asked Dave.

"I don't know even if anyone has ever seen a guardian before," Yulgar replied.

"Well then how do you know they are real?" asked Dave.

"Because, Dave, if they weren't, adventurers like yourself wouldn't be able to roam the land freely. We'd be overrun with all sorts of monsters." At this, Dave nodded. Something, some thought, was starting to itch painfully in the back of his head. "Well, that's pretty much all I can tell you. You'll have to find that out on your own."

"Yulgar," Dave said. The thought struck him from the back of his mind like a hammer hitting an anvil. "How do I become a guardian?"

Yulgar laughed uproariously. His laughter continued for a few moments. When he finally could talk, he managed to gasp something about needing a good laugh and the best joke he ever heard. Dave turned on his heel and pouted out of the inn. His resolve was firm. He was going to find out how to become a guardian.

The march came right out of him when he realized just how big the tower was. It was a long, strenuous walk, but at least it was a clear path. There would be no surprise attacks, which was excellent. The trek was a long one, at least several miles. He thought that he might have done better to find something to ride on. He hadn't yet learned how to ride a horse, but he was trying. Usually, he was bucked off or fell off at least seven times, but last time he only fell twice, once because he overbalanced, and the second time because he was hit by the trainer, trying to teach Dave to receive incoming fire and stay aback. It hadn't been easy.

He had hiked the majority of the way and sat down on a rock near him. The tower wasn't looming in the distance, like some foreboding spectre, it was an unfathomably tall behemoth, towering at least some three hundred feet, about the size of a football field. Dave shook his head in amazement. With the sun setting and his body weary, he was slowly lulled into a dreamlike state. He was only semi observant of his surroundings. The rest of his attention was directed on the wavering shapes his mind was displaying. Through clouds of mist, he saw some strange figure, holding a sword not unlike that of Galanoth's, armored in red plates. Blood red. Dragon Slayer armor. The helmet though… the helmet was different. It was like the helmet Russell Crowe wore in _Gladiator_ during the Carthage reenactment, but Dave couldn't see the face. It was solid shadows, but the eyes… the eyes were piecing eyes. Red as blood and resonating evil, they stared fiercely at the opposing, entirely contrasting figure. This man was extremely well built and worn awesome armor, spikes stabbing straight up from the shoulders, mesh gloves and boots, and wore no helmet. The breastplate was ornately done, absolutely shining with resilience and durability. In his hand, he held a sword also, pointed at the end like an arrow, but had more ridges in the body than normal. At the bottom, two small points extended upwards, creating a pincer like grip between it and the corners of the arrow point.

The darker figure turned towards Dave and motioned to the other while the light figure looked to Dave and motioned to the dark. Dave wasn't sure which way to go. Just as he came close to making his choice, we was awoken by the hoot of an owl. The tower had seemed to have gotten further away. Dave stretched in the moonlight and looked to the tower. This wasn't as easy as he thought.

Time slipped away from him in the day that followed as he chased the tower evermore. The faster he ran, the further it seemed to get away. Eventually, his frustration level broke and he skidded to a halt. He shouted in an animalistic way and threw his sword. He expected it to bury its point in the ground around him, but instead of doing that, it stabbed in mid air. He cautiously approached the airborne sword and realized that it was stuck in a camouflaged building. Under closer inspection, the sword had slid into a crevice. He wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't lost his temper like that.

He was standing now at the base of the guardian tower, free of its camouflage, and standing majestically in his path. The gates opened up and Dave's heart near burst in exhilaration. He steeled himself and stepped into the forbidden stronghold.


	5. Chapter 5

Once his eyes were accustomed to the darkness within the walls, he saw quite clearly that a young man was standing near the door. Next to this mystery man was a table with an open book. He leaned forward to read what the pages said, but the man pushed him back. Dave was just short of reading what the book said.

"You must be a guardian to lay eyes on this book," he said. "I am Nimrod, and this is Guardian Tower." Nimrod was wearing a peculiar suit of armor. It looked a lot like the regular armor that Dave had seen other adventurers wear, but it was more complex with more plating. The edges were hued yellowish. His shoulders looked like they had shoulder pads like football players wear on them for the armor. A yellow stripe ran right down the middle of the breast plate and divided halfway down. The line met a crest at the waist, which was also yellow. The gloves were made of mesh, the knuckles with yellow and the wristband yellow. Even the ends of the gloves were laced yellow. The tips of the shoulder pad things were yellow too, and looked sharp as a razor.

"How do I get to be a guardian?" Dave asked, quite straightforward.

"Well, most importantly, you must have something of great worth that you can contribute to Guardian Tower. We control Lore, and if we fall short of funds, we will indeed be unable to continue protection and administration of Lore. Do you have something that you can contribute to our cause?" Nimrod seemed well versed for someone with the name "Nimrod".

Dave looked to the floor for inspiration for a moment and thought. What did he have that they didn't? His hands began patting his pockets for something. In his pockets, he found some lint, a pocket knife, a nickel, and his house key. He thought and thought. None of these were rare in any manner, way, shape, or form. Lint had absolutely no use, knives seemed to be everywhere in Lore, his house key was worthless, seeing as he doubted that he'd see his house very soon. The nickel was the only thing that he could think to give him.

Then it struck him. Didn't he have some money left from school the day he came here? He stuffed his hand into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. Opening it, hoping to find some money, he breathed a sigh of relief. President Andrew Jackson was staring at him. Thanking the fates, he handed the twenty to Nimrod. Nimrod studied it for a while, then said, "This is indeed a rare and valuable donation. Come with me to the armory."

Dave followed Nimrod to the left of the entrance. He passes into the second of the three towers in the main area. Here were two more guardians. Both wore the same garb as Nimrod, but differed in their facial features. The woman was a red head and very pale. The man was blonde, but very tan. "Hello, Nimrod. Who is that with you?"

"This is Dave, another of the adventurer converts," replied Nimrod. Dave looked at Nimrod with a questioning face. When had he said his name? Nimrod saw this and explained, "We guardians know all who wander this land. It is our job, you see."

"Well," said the redhead, "We need to get you some armor." And with that, she turned and began rummaging through the armor suits already on display. When she found one that suited her taste, she began undressing Dave.

"Whoa, hang on there," Dave started. "I didn't sign on to get dressed down by someone else. I want to know how to do it, so let me do it."

"Why are your cheeks red, Dave?" she questioned. Dave had begun to blush deeply.

"Just let me get my own armor on, okay?" The others left the room for a few minutes and came back to find Dave had figured it out. Nimrod nodded.

"Good job," he said, tossing his two more health and mana potions. "These come standard. Now, on to your next test." They traversed the stairs, unaccompanied by the guardians from the armory. They passed through what seemed to be a display hall. There were four pedestals, three on the right and one on the left. The one on the left had a peculiar golden statue on it. It seemed to be a small angel. On the other three pedestals, there were helms, one resembling a Viking helm, one, a knight's helm, and one in the precise shape of Drakonnan's head.

Instead of stopping here, they made another right. Apparently, this was called the war room. Further down the hall this way was a large door with a skull on it. The closer that he got to the door, he noticed that the eyes were glowing red. He reached out and got within an inch of the glow when Nimrod stayed his hand. "I wouldn't suggest touching that." Nimrod instead pulled the door ring, opening the strange door. Dave was about to look into it when he felt a rough shove on his back.

Dave landed face down on the hot dirt of an arena. He looked up to see a girl standing over him. She turned away and faced the open. "Welcome, one and all! I am Mia, the announcer, and this is…" She paused for dramatic effect. "The Guardian Arena!"

Dave looked and saw what was before him. He was in the center of a huge arena, surrounded by stone steps, almost like bleachers. Occupying these bleachers were guardians, of all colors and faces. Dave took this moment to examine his own armor. It was designed exactly as all the other guardians, but his was black with white trimming instead of gray with yellow trimming. He noticed a small string poking up from his shoulder. He yanked it away, only to find that it unfurled his cape. It was blood red and ankle length. He nodded and turned his attention back to the girl.

"Excuse me, but what exactly am I doing here?" he asked.

"Well, obviously, you're new, so you'll be taking the Frogzard Face-off challenge," Mia explained. Dave nodded like he knew what she was talking about.

"And when do we start?" he asked.

"Well, are you taking the challenge?"

"Yes…" he responded.

"Okay, then now!" Mia quickly ran to the brink where there was located a secret door so she could safely exit the arena. Another door opened on the opposite side of the arena. Dave looked around the arena, seeking a higher point in the place than another, but his search was fruitless. He found that the arena was completely flat. And then he heard it.

It was a growl unlike any other. It was low and menacing and not alone. He saw something exiting the door on the other side of the arena. And not just one something. It was a pack of them. And they looked exactly as their name described them. Frogs combined with lizards. Frogzards.

From above him, her head Mia's voice begin to dictate the match. "Today, we have a new challenger! Please help me in welcoming Dave! May this brave guardian's weapons strike true and spells not falter because round one is the Frogzard Face-off! Show us what you're made of!"

Six Frogzards hurtled out of the gate and straight at Dave. "Whoa, an Icezard, a Firezard, an Energyzard, a Windzard, a Rayzard, and a Frogzard all working together to take down their pray! This will be very interesting!" Mia called from the top of the stadium. Dave looked at the pack. It was obvious that the leader was the Rayzard. He gulped for a moment and was about to charge when he heard a strange voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. It was whispering something to him, what it said, however, he couldn't tell.

A sword cut straight through the air and stabbed point down into the ground in front of Dave. He dropped his old long sword that Robina had given him and reached forth to the hilt. When he grasped it, he felt a power surge through him unlike any other. He pulled it from the ground and marveled at the blade. It shifted from color to color like a rainbow, ever moving. Lifting the new blade into stance, he began advancing on the enemy.

The zards either saw this coming or just got tired of running in a line, for they broke formation and began to circle around Dave. Dave wondered what exactly he could do in a situation like this. He wasn't given much time to ponder, however. The Energyzard leaped forward first, head on at Dave. Dave held the blade ready. Swinging with deadly accuracy, he sliced the zard cleanly in two. He looked to the sword, surprised. The blade itself was perspiring. The Windzard took up the attack, dashing headlong at Dave.

Dave swung vertical, missing by a fraction of an inch, though that was moot at that point. Static electricity crackled off the blade and caught the zard right in the skull. The voltage went straight to the brain, killing it instantly and giving a dramatic death dance. The Icezard hopped forward, just out of blade range and spat forth icy balls. The frosty missiles caught Dave right in the chest, knocking him back a pace. The Firezard took advantage of Dave's imbalance. It leapt on Dave's back and began gnawing at his armor. Dave fell to the ground with the Firezard right on top of him. Reacting without thinking, Dave grasped the zard by its feet, the only appendages it had, and swung it into the Icezard. The Firezard exploded on contact with the Icezard, creating a small heat wave, which in turn, melted the Icezard.

"Oh, dear me, our Dave looks like he's got this covered! Only two zards to go!" Mia shouted from the stands. The Rayzard circled Dave slowly, waiting for him to recover his feet. Dave stood, using the sword to give himself leverage. As soon as Dave had his footing, the Rayzard emitted a short bark, at which point, the Frogzard dove at Dave's chest. Dave reacted quickly this time, ducking just in time. The Frogzard ate dust. Dave stabbed the blade deeper into the ground trying to keep his balance after the speedy attack.

The Rayzard jump at him. Dave only just had time to grab the Rayzard before it could clamp jaws onto him. Dave brought himself face to face with the zard, still clasping its jaws wide open. He sneered at its attempt to clip him. Twisting it sideways, he brought his hands further apart, tearing the top half of the Rayzard's head away entirely from the body. The jaw fell to the ground limply. The final Frogzard turned around to deal a blow to Dave's unprotected head, only to find that Dave was nowhere to be found.

"I'm here," Dave whispered from behind the zard. It spun around just in time to witness Dave's finishing hit, which was becoming a regular; his haymaker. The punch landed squarely in the belly of the beast and, carried by its momentum, knocked the zard a dozen feet in the air. When it hit the ground, it flinch a moment, and then lay still.

"VICTORY! Amazing! You saw it with your own eyes, folks, we have a new champion! More exciting events are coming. I cannot wait to see what our champion will do next round!" Mia shouted enthusiastically. Dave noticed a small box that had been brought up onto the arena after he had beaten the last zard. He walked over to the box and opened it. Inside was gold. He counted the pieces. Fifty. Not bad for a first timer.


	6. Chapter 6

Dave surveyed the land around him. Darkovia was a dark place, especially at night. Shadows twisted everywhere and ghouls lingered in the air. Dave ever felt the presence of someone or something around him. He didn't like this place one bit.

After having defeated the zards in the Guardian Arena challenge, he decided that it was time to do what Sage Uldor had asked. He hardly escaped the tower. When he won over the zards, the arena filled with excited guardians, many asking Dave to spar with them, others asking him to train under them, still others requesting to train under him, it was a mess. Mia saw this very soon and quickly realized that Dave's best chance was to escape the mob. She had pulled him through the secret exit she used to flee the arena when the zards attacked, where it was safe. From that point, he had left the tower and headed due northwest to Darkovia.

Dave looked at the setting sun directly in front of him. Maybe he had traveled too far west to find who he was looking for. He decided that the best way to complete his mission was to stay alive, and in order to do that, he needed shelter for the night. His eye caught a dilapidated castle a short march away. He hopped to it, intent on making the castle before full nightfall.

His trot was interrupted very quickly. Something, some shadowy figure barred his passage. It had bluish hair and armor. Its skin was a dark charcoal gray with stitches running all through it. The face was masked.

The assailant put a single fist up, as if to say, "Do not come any closer." Dave, of course, was undeterred. Instead of signaling again, it attack. The already raised fist launched off of its arm and punched Dave squarely in the chest. Dave was glad for his new armor, as he hardly felt anything. He drew his sword, which had been given power by the Light lord.

Dave waited for the MechaZombie to attack again. Both circled the other, looking for an opening. The MechaZombie got tired of circling very quickly and proceeded to fire off another shot. Dave was ready. He dodged the blow nimbly and swung the sword across the chain connecting the fist to the arm. Instead of snapping the chain, all Dave accomplished was having a chain wrapped around his sword. And the zombie still had another hand to use, which it did. The fist shot forward.

Dave swung at the fist with his free hand and landed a decent blow. It knocked the fist off course, making it swing wildly out of control. Looping around a tree, it circled back to its master and gave him what-for. Now, with all ranged weaponry gone, the zombie proceeded to run at Dave. Using the chains and fists as anchors, it leapt into the air and swung a kick at Dave. Dave bowed deeply and came up, just as the zombie was above him. The zombie fell to the ground, off balance and with no way to get back up. Dave wondered aloud, "I wonder if zombies can die the same way as humans."

Dave reached for the neck. His fingers gripped it delicately, and with a swift motion, snapped it. The zombie jerked, then lay still. Dave retrieved his sword.

Dave trekked on, wondering what kind of monster he would encounter next when he found that the answer was right in front of him, in the form of a Lesser Droag. It looked like something you'd find in the toilet of a sickly person. Its four heads stood atop the large mass of rotting flesh and unstable legs. Dave coughed disgustedly. The Droag hadn't spotted him yet. If he made a surprise attack, he might be able to kill it quickly. Droags were known to drag out battles with the inexperienced.

Dave dashed forward and swung the light sword up, cutting away one of the four head instantly. The sharp blade sliced through the rotted flesh like warm butter. Dave spun and swung again, taking away the second head. In a continued arc, he swung again, decapitating the third head. The final head finally caught on with what was going on and made the whole body back away as quickly as possible, but to no avail. Dave had stood still for a moment, anticipating a counter attack. Upon receiving none, he continued the assault. The fourth and final head was caught unawares by Dave's blade. The Droag fell to the ground, completely lifeless.

Dave treaded on. He reached the castle within minutes of total darkness. He entered, looking for a suitable camping ground. Passing in one of the hallways, he saw something move. Whether by fortune or fate, Dave followed his curiosity down the hall, where he found himself staring into the glowing red eyes of a fully matured Werepyre. It was ten feet tall, completely covered in fine black fur. Its wings, however, were not. They were huge and leathery. The claws were the size of tennis rackets and the foot paws were the size of hub caps. The snout was elongated and vicious, with fangs as big as butcher knives and twice as sharp showing in a terrifying sneer. The ears poked up like bat ears. The build was lycan, but the finish was vampire.

Dave said the first thing that came to mind. "So, are you going to say something, or just stand there and look ugly? Make your move!"

The werepyre snarled. "YOU--- are not the first who has found my keep of solitude, from where I watch over all the fools who think they have power. They do not know true power! I am master of the night, Lord of Twilight, Guardian of the Moon!" He stood at his full height and beat his wings. He roared to the heavens for all to hear, "I am WOLFWING! The master of all werepyres!"

Dave was truly terrified by this awesome display of might. He receded back to the old self he used to know. "You are, are you? You sound like you're applying for a job."

Wolfwing bent low and said in a barely audible gasp, "You dare mock me!" He swung with one of his might claws and grappled Dave. Palming his easily, Wolfwing slammed his against the wall. Dave sputtered in pain, but didn't allow Wolfwing to see his pain.

"Okay, you have my attention," Dave groaned aloud.

Wolfwing continued to sneer. "You were brave enough to find me, so I will offer you a choice: If you are already either a vampire or a werewolf, I can give you a greater gift… I can make you a WEREPYRE! You will have command over the powers of both vampires and werewolves, but you will not be welcomed by either side."

"So what's my other option?" Dave asked nonchalantly.

Wolfwing looked a little amused and annoyed at the same time. This little human was giving him cheek and he was still alive. Wolfwing mused this over in his head. "I'll eat you," he said simply.

"Hm, such a hard decision to make," Dave sighed sarcastically.

Wolfwing was in no mood for any more antics. "Choose. NOW."


	7. Chapter 7

Wolfwing's eyes dilated. Something was not right. He leaned forward and sniffed Dave. He wondered what he was sensing in this boy. Then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"You are neither vampire nor werewolf! You cannot become a werepyre unless you are already one or the other! Be gone with you!" He threw Dave into the air as high as he could and as far as he could, and seeing as he was the king of Werepyres, he could throw pretty fairly. Dave flew straight through the timber of the roof and into the night sky. Dave was pretty banged up from the initial smash through the roof, but he knew that he would never survive the downward fall, even in his pristine condition. He saw the whole of Darkovia from an aerial view, then all of Lore. He had to be at least four hundred feet in the air. Two thoughts passed through Dave's head: one, Wolfwing was bad ass and the strongest anything he'd ever met, and two, how the hell am I going to survive the damn fall?

He hit the arc in his path. His body hovered in mid air for a moment, then began to fall. Perhaps if he angled his sword right he would be able to latch it to a tree and stop from hitting the ground. He had to convert his downward energy into potential energy as rapidly as possible. He spread eagle in the air and inhaled as much as he could. His guardian armor was weighing him down by a lot. If he hit the ground in that, most certainly he would die. He unbuckled the breastplate and back attachment. Hanging onto them like Frisbees, he spread them flat too. He felt himself slow fractionally, but not enough to make a difference. The castle that he saw came into view again, but a lot further away. And there was another castle. One that was well kept and managed properly. It was the castle of someone with a lot of class.

The trees were rushing up around him too fast for comfort now. He released the plates of armor and grasped his sword in his right hand. He swung the sword, biting the ridges into the trunk. Twisting around from the sudden change of course, Dave felt a paralyzing pain in his right arm. Or at least, where his right arm used to be. The force of the fall had torn his arm away from his body. He screamed in pain. Darkness clouded his vision. Wind rushed in his ears. The warmth from his body was fading quickly. He saw the trail of falling blood in his wake.

He finally hit the ground after what seemed an eternity. Instead of smashing into little bits, like he would have if he had hit stone, he splashed into a huge pit of sinking sand. The sand clogged his wound and stopped the bleeding for a time. Dave lay in the sand, completely unmoving, half submerged and wholly unconscious.

When Dave awoke, he was staring into the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They belonged to the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Indeed, every aspect of her was perfected. Her face, her eyes, he movements, even her voice. Dave was briefly reminded of Karen.

She wore a crimson over bust corset with a plunging V and accented with a contrasting red ruffle at the left hip. Her gloves were opera length single finger gloves, detailed with a tapered ruffle. Her skirt was an ankle length a-line with an exposed butter cream petticoat with six tiers of ruffle falling into a sweeping train. On her neck she wore a matching neck corset with a high fringed collar. Her hair was a long black chain of silk. "He wakes," she said. She took his right shoulder and pulled him into sitting position. Dave noticed that the woman wasn't the only other one in the room. There were many others, all were wearing black. One of them stood and walked over to Dave.

Instead of talking to Dave, he whispered in the woman's ear. She turned and whispered back to him. At this, he raised his voice.

"Oh, so I suppose now you'll let werewolves to simply walk in here and take up residence," he snorted.

"I do not have to ask your permission, Bledder. As last I checked, I rule this castle, not you," she said.

"But Safiria, he stinks of werewolf! How do you not see?" Bledder responded.

Safiria simply stated what seemed extremely obvious to her. "Because he also has Vampire scents on him. Also, he has no bite marks of either species. He is as human as the next man." Bledder simply shook his head.

"If you're sure he's a human, then turn him," Bledder said. If a vampire ingested werewolf blood, they could contract a disease. The purer the vampire blood, the more fatal the disease.

"Because I have not given him the choice of life or death yet. Be patient, when he fully comes awake, we will question him," Safiria replied calmly.

Bledder didn't take this very well, and Dave could tell, because he stomped off in a silent fury. Safiria turned back to Dave.

"Are you awake fully?" she asked. Dave decided that he was definitely going to died from loss of blood, so he thought that he had no problem in telling the truth.

"You're… beautiful," he managed to groan. Safiria smiled warmly, or at least, as warmly as an undead entity could.

"Rest now, you've lost a lot of blood. You need to sleep to recover," she said. Dave shook his head.

"No," he said. He felt completely out of breathe. "What am I doing here? Where is here?"

Safiria knew she would not get him to go to sleep willingly, so she would need to persuade him. "This is my castle. I am ruler of Darkovia, Queen Safiria, Empress of Vampires."

Dave nodded and leaned back, ready to die in an almost casual manner. His brain was screaming in panic, but his conscious didn't hear it. He was drifting, drifting…

Dave sat bolt upright. He swung his right arm to his sword belt, only to find that he was unarmed. Putting his left hand to his forehead, he shook his head. It was splitting like a log after a lumberjack passing. Hearing voices down the hallway, he slipped from his bedding and slid as silently as possible towards them.

"Why? Why would you do it?" Dave recognized the voice as Bledder's.

"Because the life was slipping out of him. And I believe that he will have an impact on the events in the future." It was Safiria who spoke this time.

"How could you know? You have no power to see," Bledder argued.

"True," Safiria nodded, "but I have a feeling in my fangs that he will play a huge roll in the upcoming war."

"War!" Bledder demanded, obvious shock in his voice.

"Oh yes, the werewolves have advanced into our territory. A vast army, to be sure. Over a hundred legions, so I'm told. And an extra addition to our armies would be valued. I've even been told that the vampyre slayers will be fighting with the werewolves. The nerve…" She said the first part in a strong, evident voice and muttered the final two words.

Dave left his cover and said, "So you've saved me to kill me, is that it? I have little skill in combat and would certainly be killed on the battlefront."

Without even bothering to turn to face him, she said, "Young vampyre, I think it would be wiser to not to talk to your Queen like that."

Dave laughed bitterly and spat. "You are not my queen. I serve no one." Before Dave knew what was happening, he was clutched in the hands of the Vampyre Queen herself, not the dainty beauty he had seen earlier. No, this woman, this demon had changed, her fangs gaining at least an inch in length, her eyes burning red like fire, and her claws elongated, like the claws of a tiger. Her black, silky hair was slightly frizzy and her face as pale as snow.

Without thinking, entirely on impulse, he swung his fist straight into her face, though his fist was not his own. In an instant, he realized that his arm was reattached and that it was stronger than ever. His skin was black, almost charred looking and his fist nearly the size of a small hubcap. He connected with her face, knocking her back and smashing into the nearby wall. When she fell, she brought a little of the wall down with her.

Dave roared a challenge. Bledder backed away, now frightened of the fully recovered Dave. Safiria looked up at Dave on all fours and hissed at his. Dave stood full height and held one hand up, palm up. With a sneer and a humorless chuckle, he pulled a Neo again, flexing his fingers and signaling to come on. Safiria, stung by the insult, launched herself at him, meaning to throttle him. She found herself with her face in the ground and no recollection of how it got there.

Dave sauntered over to her dazed form. Grabbing her hair and lifting her head, he said, "Your majesty."

Safiria laughed hugely and stood up. She had not been damaged at all in the altercation. In fact, she had been testing Dave to find out if she had made the right choice. "Excellent work, my young warrior."

"Please, call me by my name, Dave," Dave said with a hint of adrenaline in his voice.

"Well, Dave, it seems to me that you are ready to go to battle. I think I will have you as a commander." Safiria had a small smile playing on the corner of her lips. Dave didn't like the idea of commanding a small army against a hundred legions, but his fate in that scenario seemed to stand a better chance of survival than if he refused.

"I need to go back to town to restock my inventory," he said.

"Of course, this way please," Safiria said as she showed him the way out. Once out of the castle, he began walking swiftly up the road. He needed to find out all that he could concerning werewolves and their weaknesses. On a dead set course for Yulgar's inn, he dashed for all he was worth.


	8. Chapter 8

"Werewolves, huh?" Yulgar asked. "Well, as far as I know, they don't much care for the cold and can't abide extreme heat. Other than that, they are nearly perfect warriors."

Dave nodded sadly. "Have you any weapons in mind if you were challenged to fight one?"

"Well," Yulgar started as he so often did, "I'd use Pzycho's Super Sabre. When he realized that his powers had by far shadowed his blade's, he forged a new one. Super Pzycho Sabre, he called it."

"Have you any idea where it could be obtained?"

"You're in luck, as I have it in my possession. I'll sell it to you, for the low low cost of only 6500 gold coins."

Dave gasped in shock, but regained his composure quickly. Turning and taking stock of his savings, he found that he had 6499 gold. Cursing his luck, he turned to Yulgar and asked, "What if I'm short?"

"Well, I won't discriminate against you, being short and all. Heck, when I was younger-" Yulgar began.

"I meant short of the total price," Dave said over Yulgar's voice.

"Oh. Well, how short?" he asked.

"One gold coin," Dave said. Yulgar nodded curtly and held out his hand. Dave put the weighty sum in Yulgar's outstretched hand and then held out his own. Within moments, he felt the weight of the blade he asked for in his hand.

"Nice," Dave murmured smugly. He turned and headed out of the inn. He was on his way to fight a war.

He had only walked just beyond town limits when he huge shadow overtook the sun. Dave looked up and into the face of one he didn't believe he'd ever seen again; Wolfwing.

"Oh… shit!" Dave cried as he started running. Wolfwing easily apprehended him and flew straight up, high as he could go. Dave felt like his brains were going into his feet, they were moving so fast. They stopped finally, almost two miles up. Dave felt frozen and light headed.

"You. You're a vampyre now. So I can turn you." Wolfwing had to shout for Dave to hear him.

"Why! Why me!" Dave screamed. "Why am I so fucking important!"

"Because I know there is more strength in you than an entire legion of werewolves! Because I know there is more power in you than a legion of vampyres! Because I know that there is more wisdom in you than all the mages in Lore! There is more cunning, more charisma, more luck than any other creature! Your destiny is far greater than mine or Safiria's or even the King of Werewolves! You are destined for greatness! And the only way for you to achieve this is for you to have my gift and curse!" And with those happy words, Wolfwing sunk his teeth into Dave's exposed neck. Dave shrieked crazily. His body began writhing and seizing.

Wolfwing let him go and sped to the ground faster than a bullet, straight to his home perch.

Dave's body began undergoing changes like none other. Huge black wings torn through his back, flapping and twisting like an out of control Tickle-Me Elmo. He felt his skull expanded to the size of a basketball, though it took on the shape of a football. His nose changed into a snout, his eyes losing his circular shape and becoming almond shaped. Like a receding hairline, his ears backed up to rest on the top of his head, pointed like a dog's and black as pitch. His mouth elongated to fit his snout, his fangs growing into kitchen knives, his feet bursting into huge paws, his fists becoming claws the size of tennis rackets. Dave felt the power begin to surge through him, like static electricity. His final change, a tail sprouting our of his butt, signaled to his mind that it was time to fly.

Dave beat his massive wings, stopping his fall in mid air. Dave's new nightmarish features creased into a grin. This was absolute power! Following Wolfwing's example, he sped to the ground like a bullet, landing lightly. Drawing his Super Pzycho Sabre, he rocketed headlong at Darkovia, where the battling had already begun.

Dave sped along as quickly as his wing and legs would carry him. He felt the saber meld into his hands as if by magic. And indeed, it was magic. When he reached the battlefield, the fight had already been joined. He saw the vampyric forces being slaughtered and pushed back into the Queen's keep. They barred the doors, leaving no vampyre outside. The werewolves howled their victory, or so they thought. Dave was among them like a death tornado, whirling and slashing with his tremendous claws at the lesser wolf clan warriors. He torn werewolves to pieces by the dozens, slaying them like an exterminator would kill insects. He annihilated all that stood before him. Then he noticed the commander. It was an Alpha Male, a huge beast, nearly as big as Dave. Dave slaughtered his way toward this monolithic adversary.

Roaring a challenge to all, he assaulted an assembled platoon, felling five with the first stroke and seven with the second. "Bring him down! He is one! We are many! Attack!" roared the Alpha as he leaped into the mêlée. Dave locked claws with this aggressor, snarling with absolute brutish savagery. The blood wrath was upon him, and he would not stop until every single werewolf in this legion was destroyed. Werewolves leapt at him from all sides, stabbing at him with their tiny daggers and short swords, not even managing to puncture the flesh. Dave roared again and wrestled the Alpha to the ground. Straddling him, Dave bent low and grasped his enemy's neck in his awesome jaws. The Alpha never stood a chance. Werewolves piled onto Dave, covering him completely, more than three score laying on him.

Dave burst out of the dog pile, clutching the throat of the Alpha in his snarling jaws. Werewolves flew in all directions, yelping and crying from injury. Dave spat the torn throat out and continued to eliminate the enemy forces. It was no longer a battle it was simply a hunt. Not a very good hunt, as the prey believed that, with the strength of numbers, they could and would bring down Dave.

Dave's laugh echoed throughout the field and into the fortress that Safiria had taken refuge in. The vampyres were completely unaware of what was going on, but when they heard the werewolves screaming in injury, they let out a mighty cheer.

"Let us go out and meet the enemy!" Bledder begged his queen.

"No," Safiria said quietly. "What ever is out there is likely to kill anything it sees. I think it is best if we allow it to finish its work. Why risk more vampyre's lives than necessary?"

Bledder nodded, though he had his doubts. He was going to go out and ride to glory. Slipping past the gate, he ran out into the battle scene, only to find carnage that would turn the stomach of a sick, dark, sadistic monster. In the middle, still dancing his tango of death, Dave continued to thin the foes' ranks. When Dave's eyes found Bledder, he charged right to him, running down eight werewolves in the process. He lifted Bledder into the air and howled. Bledder, showing no aggression, had gone rigid with terror. Dave, not finding the treat he had hoped for, discarded Bledder, who dashed with all speed back into the castle the same way he got out.

Dave rampaged on. There was nothing that could stop him. He was the perish song to all who listened. He was the keen of the razor, the death tornado, the whirlwind of fate. He felt the power coursing through him. But then he realized with a sudden clarity that he was not the only ultra-power on the field. Another was there.

Dave spun on the dime and looked. In a dark corner, a young woman stood, unmoving, dressed entirely in black. Who was this woman? Why wasn't she afraid of him? Why was she standing there? _Why was she smiling! _

Dave roared a challenge to her. She nodded, then, quick as lightning, she darted in front of him. Though he was a mighty Werepyre, he still knew that in a match of speed, he would be hard pressed to keep up with this woman.

"You are the one they call Dave?" she asked. Dave nodded dumbly, some of the blood luster gone. "Then we've no quarrel. Please, return to yourself and speak with me civilly."

Dave, not knowing how he knew, began to change back. His wings shrank into his back, his muzzle and fangs sucked right back into his face. The Super Pzycho Sabre he wielded was stabbed into the ground at his feet. Dave, now fully restored, looked at the woman he was speaking with.

She had silver hair, almost white. She wore black entirely, black armor, black boots, black gauntlets, even as far as a black sword. He armor was light and thin, but very strong. It was made from dragon hide and some sort or metal, a material unknown to him. Her skin was tan, not white or black, but Latina looking. Dave couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. God, if anyone was a lady's man, it sure wasn't Dave.

"What can I do you for?" he asked her with a fake Texan accent.

"I heard from someone that you're newly arrived to Lore. That being said, where are you from?" she asked him.

"You wouldn't know where I would be talking about," Dave muttered. "But I'm from Florida." At this, the woman's eyes widened a little and she raised her eyebrows.

"Really?" she said in a disbelieving tone. "Truly? Could it be possible?" Dave started to take a step back, thought for a moment, then decided to hold his ground.

"Listen, I don't know what you're so amazed about. Florida isn't so special. From what I can recall, it has a populace of about… what was it, 18 million?"

"Twenty," she said. Dave stared for a moment. He cocked his head to the side a little and squinted.

"Elise?" he asked. "Elise? Oh my god, Elise?" She nodded. This girl was his ex-girlfriend from Florida.


End file.
